Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,58

two to hone their strategy with no fear of the gang eating poor Velkma and her neighbors out of house and home. “A bodyguard of children might be better. Something tells me those Nedwuts would have no qualms about firing a wide stun beam into a crowd of women.”

“Kids wouldn’t stop them,” Klara said. “Certainly didn’t stop them from killing my brothers.”

“Open mouth, insert foot,” Moe muttered. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Was remembering a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, which, of course, you’ve never seen. Come to think of it, most people have never seen that movie, since it was made over a thousand years ago.”

“You’re really strange. You know that, don’t you?”

“Blame it on my peculiar upbringing.” He peered at her closely, noting that her tone seemed a little…off, somehow. Then it hit him. “You’ve never seen a movie, have you?”

Focusing on her boots, rather than meeting his gaze, she shook her head. “I don’t even know what one is.”

Given the level of technology Moe had grown up with, he hadn’t considered how many things he took for granted that someone living as Klara had done would know nothing about. Again, he felt the need to apologize.

“Sorry, Klara. But if we ever get off this world and back on my ship—or my mother’s ship—I’ll be able to introduce you to all sorts of cool things. You’ll be amazed at the different forms of entertainment, transportation, and laborsaving devices. Bots, movies, holograms—stuff like that. Most worlds aren’t like this one.”

He’d avoided calling Haedus primitive, but by current standards, it was quite backward indeed. Hopefully, the banking system wasn’t as archaic. The funds for the cargo he’d delivered had been transferred to his account via his comlink. He’d verified the deposit, but whether it would show up in the records of a local bank remained to be seen. Unlike him, most traders probably didn’t stay on Haedus long enough to find out.

She nodded, still opting to look anywhere but at him.

He could understand why she might be feeling a little self-conscious, given the intimacies they’d just shared. But this sudden shyness seemed out of character, even for that. Was she ashamed of the planet? Or the type of society that had evolved—or devolved—there?

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Again, she nodded without speaking.

“No, you aren’t.” Pushing her to explain might have been tacky, but already, he cared enough to want to be sure he wasn’t causing her any discomfort, however inadvertently. “You can tell me, Klara. Believe me, I’ll understand.”

She blew out a breath. “I feel so…ignorant when you talk about such things. Things I never knew existed.”

He took a step closer, longing to take her in his arms and comfort her, but instinct told him to hold back, at least for now. “That isn’t your fault, Klara. You’ve done the best you could to survive, which is a remarkable feat in itself. You aren’t responsible for the way things are here. After hearing Velkma’s story, there are plenty of others that can be held accountable. Not you.” He gave into the need to touch her, tipping her lovely but troubled face toward his with a finger beneath her chin. “Never you.”

Her tiny nod did nothing to erase her distress, yet her lips formed a slight pout rather than the grim line he might’ve expected. They were in the perfect position…

So he kissed her.

If he lived to be a thousand years old, he would never tire of the feel of her lips against his own. Soft, warm, and brimming with a flavor that was at once both savory and sweet, they were a blend that appealed to him on every conceivable level.

Sighing against his lips, she melted into his embrace, parting her lips to welcome the slow thrust of his tongue. His purr began seemingly of its own accord, a change as natural as breathing. Within moments, her scent altered to become laden with desire. His body responded instantly, filling him with the need to bury his engorged cock in her warmth, loving her until she dissolved into a puddle of laetralant delight.

“Getting kinda quiet in there,” Temfilk hollered through the door. “Breakfast is on the table and getting cold. You wouldn’t want Velkma to think you didn’t appreciate her cooking, would you?”

Moe tore his lips from hers with the utmost reluctance. “We’re coming.” In an under voice, he added, “Or we would if you’d leave us be.”

Klara giggled, a sound as musical as it was endearing, one that satisfied him almost